Blind Justice- The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince
by Izanami No Utau
Summary: The Vargas brothers could not have been set on more different paths. Feliciano- blessed with a sacred power, he is to become a prominent figure in the Empire. Lovino- possessing a mysterious power, now forgotten; a poisoner for the notorious and powerful Carriedo family. When their paths collide once more, all hell breaks loose. Contains violence, pairings, and character death.
1. Prologue

_Blind Justice- The Sacred Angel and the Poison Prince_

_Prologue_

_**O-o-O-o-O**_

"_I... I came here by day, but I left here in darkness_

_And found you, found you on the way_

_And now, it is silver and silent, it is silver and cold_

_You, in somber resplendence, I hold."_

_-AFI, Silver and Cold_

_**O-o-O-o-O**_

_Five Years Earlier…_

_There was a sadness to the day's colors. The skies were a somber grey and the vivid hues of the flora, muted by the lack of sunlight. The nobles, in their gaudy finery, were inside where it was warm, sheltered from the pouring rain. The merchant stalls were closed, the wooden shelves bare of any wares. The few souls remaining outside were haunting figures, veritable ghosts in tattered grey rags, their emaciated bodies streaked with filth. _

_Removed from the city, nestled amongst fragrant groves and citron orchards was the proud estate, belonging to the affluent Romulus Vargas. Surrounded by a kempt garden of poppies, lilies, daphnes, and ranunculus blossoms, a stately Grecian-style mansion overlooked the sprawling landscape, proud and omniscient. _

_Approaching the mansion with caution was a small band of bedraggled soldiers and an elderly ecclesiast, saddled on a placid brown palfrey with two small children on his lap. Soaked from the rain, the group hovered nervously in front of the sweeping staircase leading up to a formidable set of ebon double doors. _

_The younger of the two children cried out pitifully, his stomach aching from hunger. His older brother shook his head, placing a finger against the young child's lips. "Shh," he hissed, his jade-green eyes narrowed. The small child sniffled, but obeyed his older brother, biting his complaints back with a great deal of effort. _

_A lone soldier trekked up the steps, his armor jangling as he stood there for a nervous moment, before pounding his fist against the door. There was no answer. He tried again, the knock echoing in the air. This time, the doors groaned open. A well-built man with wavy chestnut hair stood in the doorway, opulently clothed in flowing white silk trimmed with scarlet and embroidered with gold filigree. His powerful face with its hollow cheekbones and strong jaw was set in a hard mask, his henna eyes narrowed in suspicion. For a good reason too; it was never a good sign when the Empire's soldiers appeared at your front door, no matter who you were, and despite their ragged appearance, the man before him clearly served the Emperor. _

"_What is it?" he enquired, his voice spiced with the signature accent of the mediterranean. The soldier grimaced and turned to the side slightly, motioning for the ecclesiast. The old man nodded simply and motioned for help. A burly man with a bushy ginger mustache answered the request, hefting the children off palfrey and slung the ecclesiast's arm over his shoulder, helping the man off. _

_With a dumbfounded expression, Romulus watched the ecclesiast heft his way up the stairs, the two children following him closely. The youngest child stared intently at Romulus, his cinnamon eyes wide and his caramel-colored locks plastered to his skin by the rain; the oldest looked down at the marble underneath his feet, his face hidden by his messy cocoa bangs. Raising his eyebrows, Romulus gave the guard a chilly look. "What is this?" he demanded. _

"_These young souls here are Maria's children," answered the ecclesiast, in the voice of rustling leaves and placed a hand on each child's shoulder. Romulus's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. "The eldest is Lovino," the elderly man continued, gently squeezing the older child's shoulder, "and the young one here is Feliciano." The younger child glanced up at the wizened old man, hearing his name. _

_Romulus gawked at the three of them, lost for words. Rheumy grey eyes stared at him, nearly hidden under wrinkled flesh. "These two children, my dear Romulus, are your grandsons." Romulus placed a hand over his heart, feeling it throb painfully in his chest. At long last, he found his voice._

"_If these children…" he breathed "... are my grandsons… Then what happened to my daughter? And my son-in-law?" He bit his bottom lip, struggling against the tears that threatened to spill over, already knowing the answer. The two children exchanged looks with each other, unsure of what was happening._

"_Both Maria and Demetri were killed under mysterious circumstances," the ecclesiast explained. Romulus startled as if he had been slapped. A dark shadow crossed his face, contorting it into a demonic visage; then, as suddenly as the shadow came, it was gone. _

"_What do you mean by 'mysterious circumstances'? Surely, not magic? Mana can truly not be returning to these lands, can it?" Romulus's voice was hollow, void of all feeling except despair. The ecclesiast gave him a piercing look, his liver-dark lips pressed into a thin line._

"_I do not know so well myself, Romulus. All I can say is that troubled times are swift approaching, we must steel ourselves for the incoming storm. For it will be vicious, but Romulus…" His words trailed into a taut silence. Romulus looked confusedly at the ecclesiast, his expression urging him to continue. _

"_You must take care of these children, for they have been chosen by the Lord, himself." He motioned for Lovino to hold out his arm. The eldest child looked at him with a bewildered expression, but obliged and rolled up his sleeve, revealing an intricate tattoo: a swirling stygian mess of lines, forming a butterfly._

_A noise of amazement escaped from Romulus, he jerked back. Lovino snorted petulantly and yanked his sleeve back down, covering the mark. _

_The ecclesiast smiled sadly, dipping his head briefly. "Please… will you take care of them?" _

_Romulus frowned and shook his head, but not as a "no". Staring at the ecclesiast with a strange expression, he asked "Do I really have much a choice after what you just told me?" The ecclesiast's lips twisted upwards in a wry smile._

"_My dear Romulus, you always have a choice," he retorted dryly. _

_Romulus sighed and hung his head, defeated. "You know that I would never be so heartless or foolhardy." He alternated a glance between his two grandsons. "Of course I will take-" he sniffled, wiping a tear away from the corner of his eye "-them in." _

_The ecclesiast smiled tenderly and performed a slight bow, the golden rosary he wore around his neck glinting in the light radiating from inside the mansion. "Thank you, Romulus. Now I can be on my way." He turned around, starting for downstairs. _

_Romulus raised an eyebrow and held a hand backwards. "Don't you want to come in and rest for a moment? The weather outside is miserable." The ecclesiast chortled lowly and shook his head, his rakish grin widening as a couple of moans rose up from the disappointed soldiers. _

"_It is, but not nearly as bad as some of the trials I have faced during my long life." He bowed his head briefly. "I wish all of you the best. And you two!" He looked sternly at the two children who stiffened under his steely gaze. "Behave yourselves and follow your Nonno's orders. Don't give him too much grey hair, he'll be getting plenty of that later in his life." He added the last sentence with a light laugh. Lovino and Feliciano relaxed slightly and Romulus groaned, burying his face in his hands. With one last smile, the ecclesiast hobbled down the stairs, mounting the palfrey with some difficulty, and departed alongside the soldiers. _

_Romulus and his grandchildren watched them go until they were lost amidst the misty drizzle. He sniffled again, choking back a sob. "Nonno…" trailed Feliciano, tilting his head back slightly, "is something wrong?" Lovino snorted and shook his head._

"_Can't you see the position we're in, Feli?" he asked tartly. Feliciano gaped at him, confusedly. Romulus sighed and wiped his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. _

"_Don't use that tone with your little brother, Lovino," he chastised. Lovino frowned and hung his head, shamefaced. Romulus heaved a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering and gently took the children by their hand, guiding them inside. _

_**-The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince-**_

The butterflies were beautiful, pulsating with an aureate glow. Vivid scarlet, warm amber, verdant green, and melancholic cobalt were among the few colors as they flitted amongst the flowers. Perching on a white rose, a turquoise butterfly stretched its opaque wings, effused with the radiance of the sun.

Relaxing in the shade of the olive tree and inhaling the heady fragrance of the garden's flowers, Lovino smiled as a lavender butterfly rested on his nose. It was weird, most bugs terrified him, but these butterflies were different from the spiders, and the centipedes, and the bees. Different from even the other butterflies. They soothed him, made him feel at ease. Powerful even. Strangely enough, despite their vast number, only he seemed to notice them. The butterfly fluttered away, joining another on the rose-streaked petals of a lily.

He watched it go with a certain amount of longing. Perhaps it was better that only he could see them, lest they'd get their wings plucked off by the unruly brats who came with their parents to visit _Nonno_, or eaten by the scrawny stray cats that solicited the garden, attracted by the leftovers Feliciano would leave out for them.

"_Fratello_! _Fratello_!" Feliciano cried out, bursting into the garden. The butterflies scattered, streaking off into the sky and disappearing. Lovino groaned irritably and sat up, tilting his head to the side.

"_Che cosa_?" he queried, pushing himself off the ground and brushing the grass off his long white linen tunic. Feliciano rushed over to him, holding a couple of floral chaplets in his arms: one was made of fuchsia wax flowers and the other, of mauve ceanothus.

"See what I made?" Feliciano held the chaplets out, showing them off. "Aren't they pretty?" Lovino allowed a faint smile and shyly nodded his head. Feliciano was as irritating as they came in terms of little brothers, but there was no denying his talents. Besides, Lovino really did love flowers.

"_Sì_," agreed Lovino. His little brother beamed and placed the one made of the ceanothus on his head. Lovino's eyes widened, his hand drifting up to the floral wreath. "O-oh… _Grazie_…" Lovino looked away, hiding the faint red that tinged his cheeks. Feliciano giggled.

"Of course! Why would I make two if I wasn't going to share one with you?" he asked and placed the other chaplet on his head. Lovino shrugged and sat back down. Feliciano hesitated, but seeing the encouraging nod his older brother gave, sat down next to him. He couldn't always be sure if it was alright to hang out with Lovino. At best, his older brother could be described as mercurial. At worst, unstable.

Lovino sighed and looked up at the celestial blue sky. Feliciano stole a glance at him, an eyebrow raised. "Is something on your mind?" He leaned closer to his older brother. Lovino looked down and shook his head.

"No, nothing that's too important. Just zoning out," he replied absentmindedly and started to pluck at the grass. Feliciano nodded and drew back, resting his back against the tree trunk. A teasing breeze wafted through the air, playing with the single large curl in his hair. Feliciano stole a glance at Lovino, looking at the similar curl he had in his hair, and hastily averted his gaze back.

"The cook gave me a couple frittoles today," Feliciano stated, "if you want a couple, I can-"

"I'm fine," Lovino interjected curtly, crossing his arms.

Feliciano sighed and squirmed restlessly, drumming his fingers against the ground. Overhead, the leaves rustled and birdsong rang out. _How can Fratello sit in one place for so long? Even if he was zoning out, he shouldn't be able to sit in one place for a good hour. It's unnatural_, Feliciano thought."_Fratello_… I'm bored," he whined. Lovino gave him a chafed look.

"Idiot, I'm not forcing you to sit here," he snapped. "If you want to leave, then leave!" Feliciano shuddered, recoiling from his older brother's biting words.

"But… I want to do something with you!" Feliciano exclaimed, his eyes wide. "The other kids are mean and the adults are no fun!" He pouted, giving Lovino the puppy-dog eyes. A muscle in Lovino's jaw twitched. Nope, nope. Not happening. No way he was going to give in to his little brother's pouty, wide-eyed gaze, like all the adults did. No way in-

"_Per favore, fratello_?" pleaded Feliciano.

Dammit.

"_Bene_," Lovino groaned and stood up, adjusting his slightly askew flower chaplet. Feliciano squealed, clapping his hands together.

"_Grazie_!" he cried out exuberantly, dancing circles around his older brother. "_Grazie! Grazie! Grazie!_" He stumbled, nearly falling over, his floral chaplet tumbling to the ground. Lovino sighed and walked over to the fallen chaplet, bending over to pick it up and place it on his little brother's head.

"Be careful, _idiota_," he snorted, rolling his eyes. Feliciano chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

"_Scusa_," he apologized. Lovino shrugged, looking towards the mansion. "Anyways…" Feliciano continued, "do you want to go back to the house and make some _scupidù_?" He looked expectantly at Lovino, who nodded.

"Sounds fine."

"Great!" Feliciano practically glowed in jubilation. He grabbed Lovino by the hand and practically dragged him back to the mansion, singing a cheery tune.

_**-The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince-**_

The moment the two brothers entered the mansion, they could instantly sense something was off. Standing in the lounge with a despondent expression was Romulus, looking worn and defeated, accompanied by two others whom the brothers saw only once or twice before: a slender blonde man, in his late-thirties, clothed in the sumptuous wear of the Empire's religious leaders; and the other was a tall and lean man with tanned skin, black hair, and a sharp, angular face, dressed in elaborate crimson livery.

The brothers paused, startled by Romulus's expression. Never before had he looked so weary and… _old_. He always appeared much younger than he really was, but now… Bravely, Feliciano stepped forth. "_Nonno_, who are these people?" he enquired. Romulus looked away, as if guilty of something.

Lovino hissed and narrowed his eyes, protectively stepping in front of his little brother with arms outstretched. "Ok, spill it," he demanded, "what did you do?" The mysterious blonde man frowned and turned to Romulus.

"How rude, I do hope this is not Feliciano." He tilted his head to the side, amber eyes narrowed into little slits. The other unknown man chortled, and rubbed his goatee.

"He's a feisty one, no?" He faced the blonde man. "But, no worries… Isn't this child, Lovino?" He directed the question to Romulus, who nodded mutely. Lovino's eyes widened. The man chuckled. "Ah, I remember when he was just a babe," he mused. "Even then, he was a spitfire."

"Who the hell are you? And what is going on?" he thundered, his face twisting into a dark expression. The air shimmered and rippled, the butterflies materializing indoors, flashing a myriad of colors. Lovino gasped, jerking backwards. Never before had that ever happened. The butterflies shifted, their glow strengthening.

"Giovanni, what is going on?" Romulus cried out. He couldn't see the butterflies, but he could sense something was off. The blonde- Giovanni- smirked and strolled over to Lovino, placing a hand on the child's forehead, and muttered a quick sentence.

Lovino let out an indignant yelp as his strength surged out of him. He crashed to the ground, his legs bereft of feeling. "_Fratello_!" Feliciano screamed, clapping his hands over his mouth. Lovino gasped, his arm, where the mark he had all his life was, burning with an agonizing fire.

"Giovanni! What did you do?" Romulus demanded, looking irate. Giovanni stared coolly at him and tilted his chin upwards.

"The devil shall work no more of his evil," he replied evenly. Lovino hissed and staggered to his feet, clutching at his arm.

"Y-you!" he wheezed, bending over as a fresh wave of pain crashed through him. The butterflies faded into thin air. "B-bastard!" He bared his teeth in a vicious scowl. Giovanni sighed and shook his head, folding his arms. "What is this, _Nonno_?" Lovino thundered, his eyes flashing.

Romulus grimaced and exchanged glances with the two men. Giovanni smiled a cat's smile and turned back towards the brothers. "My apologies," he drawled sardonically. "I am Monsignor Giovanni Abate, a simple man in service of the Empire and the Lord." He bowed, flourishing it with an elaborate hand gesture.

"You're as slippery as a snail's ass!" Lovino shot back vehemently. Feliciano whimpered, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"_Fratello_, stop… please," he begged. Lovino scowled, his gaze meeting Giovanni's, but made no further comment. "What did you do?" He looked up at Giovanni, his eyes wide and fearful. The Monsignor smiled warmly, completely at odds with the cold, simpering expression he donned just a moment earlier.

"I just purged your brother of evil," he replied. Feliciano's eyes widened, not quite understanding. Seeing it, Giovanni shook his head. "You know you are special, no?" Feliciano continued to stare blankly at him. Giovanni sighed, lifting his gaze up at the domed ceiling. "Do you have any special mark, young one?"

Feliciano nodded slowly and rolled up his sleeve, displaying an elaborate silver cross on his wrist. "Yeah… this one…" he trailed warily. Giovanni beamed, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Now, have you ever done, or seen, anything unusual?" he pressed. Feliciano paused, as if hesitating to tell the Monsignor something. "Well, young one?" Giovanni cocked his head to the side. Lovino inhaled sharply, racking his mind for all the unnatural occurrences that had happened when Feliciano was around.

For one thing, the butterflies always disappeared when he appeared. Then, there was that time when he had fallen down the stairs and broken his leg, yet when Feliciano oversaw it, healed as if it had never been broken in the first place.

"Well… sometimes…" Feliciano trailed, "I heal people without knowing it. Then, there was this kid who kept bullying me and well… One day, he was dangling me from a third story window, and I don't know what happened next… but he… I don't know… wasn't quite the same afterwards…" He bit his bottom lip, looking petrified. Giovanni nodded, his grin broadening.

It made Lovino sick.

"Well, why the fuck are you here?" Lovino growled, cringing as his head throbbed. Romulus shot him a pleading look, the same expression he gave Lovino whenever the child was about to do or say something stupid. Giovanni's smile turned frigid, his amber eyes, cold and calculating.

"Why, we're here to set you on your fated path in life."

Lovino tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean by '_we're_'?" He glanced at the other unknown man. "Who are you?" he snapped. The other man smirked, his dark eyes, flinty, devoid of any warmth.

"I am Francisco Javier Carriedo," he replied, his voice deep and powerful. Lovino's mouth snapped open, forming a perfect "o" of surprise. He knew the Carriedo family, not personally, but he heard the rumors, and while the rumors were only rumors… They did not paint a pretty picture.

"Why are you here?" Lovino yelped, taking a step backwards. Francisco chortled mirthlessly, baring his gleaming white teeth in a fierce approximation of a smile.

"Isn't it obvious? I've come here to collect my new servant. Romulus says you're quite good with plants." He sneered at Romulus, who looked away. Lovino gulped, his mouth as dry as cotton and coated with an acrid film that burned his tongue.

"W-what does that have to do with anything?" Lovino whispered. Francisco broadened his smirk.

"You'll find out when you get there."

Lovino clenched his teeth together, his hands tightening into fists. Feliciano looked fearfully at Giovanni, as if the Monsignor was a ravenous wolf, and he, a small rabbit. "What are you here for, then… _Signore_?"

Giovanni smiled. "I am to take you to the Capitol, where you can begin your training as a Priest, so you can later ascend to your rightful status as the Vicar of the Lord."

Feliciano went as white as a ghost. Romulus's jaw dropped while Lovino's eyes went as wide as saucers. The Vicar of the Lord, sometimes referred to as the Pope, was only the most powerful authority figure besides the Emperor. And here, Feliciano was going to-

"What?" Lovino blurted out abruptly, too stupefied to think straight.

Giovanni chuckled and clasped his hands together. "I understand it is daunting, young one," he addressed Feliciano. "But, this is your destiny." Feliciano blanched, absolutely terrified.

"Wha-how… How come _fratello _won't be with me?" he cried out, distressed. Giovanni's expression darkened, he shot Lovino a dark look as if he was a pig that had rolled around in horse shit.

"Lovino… he… is a unique case… Don't worry, there shouldn't be no trouble."

"That's not what I meant!" Feliciano wailed, streaking past Giovanni and flinging his arms around Romulus's legs. "_Nonno_! Don't let me take them away from you and _fratello_!" he sobbed, burying his face in his grandfather's robes. Romulus bent down, placing a both hands on Feliciano's shoulders, and gently extracted the child from his robes.

"I'm sorry, I cannot defy-"

"NO!" Feliciano screamed and clutched his grandfather's robes as if they were a lifeline. Giovanni sighed airily, as if watching the theatre, and tapped his foot against the marble. Furious, Lovino whirled in Giovanni's direction.

"You sick fuck! You're probably getting a kick out of this!" he roared, "and undo what you did to me as well you bastard!" Giovanni shot Lovino a scalding look, his upper lip curling back in disgust.

"Do not presume to order me around, child. That sort of behavior will not serve you well in the future." He turned to face Francisco. "Please take him away, so I can settle this little matter and be off. The Deacon will not be pleased if I am late."

Francisco nodded and strolled over to Lovino, roughly grabbing his arm. "Hey! You bastard!" Lovino yelped. "Leggo!" he screeched as Francisco dragged him out of the mansion.

"_FRATELLO_!" Feliciano screamed and ran towards Lovino, but was stopped by Giovanni, as the Monsignor grabbed the back of his tunic. "NO!"

* * *

_And here's the first chapter of my rewrite of Blind Justice! There are some major differences, so I thought it'd be appropriate to change the title a bit as well XD I don't know how this Blind Justice wound up different than originally intended, but I read this book called "Poison" by some author I can't remember, and rather than starting a new story, I just ingrained that with a story I planned to rewrite. I hope this wasn't too bad of a chapter, is all I'm saying. So… if you like this story… please R&R! I'll be sure to respond some way! Everything except flames are welcome!_

_Translation notes (Everything is Italian this chapter): _

_Nonno- Grandfather_

_Fratello- Brother_

_Bene- Fine_

_Sì- Yes_

_Grazie- Thanks_

_Scusa- Sorry_

_Idiota- Dumbass_

_Che cosa?- What is it?_

_Per favore, fratello?- Please, brother? _

_Signor- Sir_


	2. Arc I: Poisoner

_Blind Justice- The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince_

_Arc I: New World  
_

_Poisoner_

_**O-o-O-o-O**_

"_The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."_

_-Alan Watts_

_**O-o-O-o-O**_

The lounge was luxurious, decorated in the Moorish fashion so few could afford. The furniture was made of the rarest woods and the finest fabric. Gilded chandeliers, draped in kaleidoscopic crystal festoons, sparkled with a diamond fire as the candle flame wavered. Sitting on a crimson sofa, embroidered with elaborate goldwork, Lovino Vargas was at a state of unease, a thousand vehement feelings raging inside of him.

Terrified, confused, and bitter.

Those were a few of the tempestuous emotions roiling around in Lovino's mind, warring with each other, as the child looked down on the steaming ceramic mug of barbajada he held in his hand. Never before had he felt so many negative emotions at once. Not even on the day he and Feliciano were sent to live with Romulus, that bastard.

Seeing his distorted reflection displayed on the milky brown surface of his drink, he knew how petrified he looked. His face was as white as a sheet and his bottom lip, dented where he had bitten it. Across from him, Francisco lounged lazily on an opulent scarlet sofa, a smug smirk curling the corners of his thin mouth upwards.

He wanted to express his outrage. Cry, scream, fling the scalding drink in Francisco's face, but he didn't dare. Upon arrival, Lovino noted how the servants treated their master- an apprehensive mix of fear and respect. Those actions made one thing clear.

Francisco Javier Carriedo was a man to respect and fear; never to defy, pity, or patronize. Lovino had no delusions that the man- no- _diavolo_ sitting before him, would have no qualms about punishing a child for any impudence.

"Is something the matter?" Francisco drawled in an oily voice. Lovino's gaze shot up, hastily meeting the man's coal-black eyes before looking away.

"N-no…" he mumbled and warily took a sip of the barbajada, grimacing as the sweet drink scalded his mouth. It was perfect, sweetened with just the right amount of sugar and cream, but the bile coating Lovino's mouth from being dragged here, ruined it.

"Nervous, perhaps?" Francisco smiled darkly and straightened his posture. Lovino pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down, mumbling an unintelligible response. Francisco frowned, his eyes flashing. Lovino shuddered as a chill settled in the air.

"Child, you will speak clearly when talking to me, or not at all. One of the things I despise the most, is cowardice," snapped Francisco. Lovino clenched his teeth together and shot him a withering glare.

"I'm not displaying cowardice!" His hands clenched into tight fists. "If you couldn't hear me, then it's your fault, _bastardo_!" Lovino's eyes widened the moment the words left him. He clapped both hands over his mouth, wincing at the malevolent look Francisco gave him.

Much to his relief, Francisco's frown slowly turned into a half-smile and he nodded approvingly. "_Mucho mejor_, but from now on-" he paused, making sure he had the child's attention "-watch your mouth when speaking to me. You are young, and were indulged by your grandfather, but I will have none of that nonsense from now on. If you want to survive here, remember this: I am the master here."

A jaw in Lovino's muscle twitched, but he nodded stiffly, his hands tightening around the mug he held. "_Sì, signore_," he managed in between clenched teeth. He took another sip, warily watching Francisco over the rim. What did that bastard have in store? With all the talk of obedience, it was probably something dull and menial. Waxing floors, for example. Lovino made a face, setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of him. God, he _hated _chores. Romulus- though he did try to persuade his grandson to help the servants- never forced Lovino to perform hard labor, seeing as it would be a futile effort.

"You're probably wondering as to why I took an interest in you, no?" Francisco inclined his head, resting it against his backhand. Lovino nodded wordlessly, silent, lest he'd make a smart remark and pay dearly for it. Francisco chortled humorlessly and tapped his fingers against the sofa's armrest. The man opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of three people: two males and a woman.

Francisco's eyes narrowed into little slits, his mouth twisting into a dark scowl. Curious, Lovino craned his neck backwards to get a better look at the arrivals. Two of the three- one of the males and the female- had fair locks, the color of sun-ripened wheat. The blonde male was tall and intimidating, with hard yellow-green eyes, and his hair spiked upwards in a unique style. The woman was gorgeous, her emerald eyes sparkling with a joyous light, and her womanly curves accentuated by the flouncy gold dress she wore. Lovino couldn't help but stare, a faint blush seeping into his cheeks. She smiled at him, and he in turn, hastily looked away, feeling as if his face was on fire.

The other male was a brunette, who carried himself with an air of nonchalant confidence. The crimson he favored, striking, against his lightly tanned skin. His bottle glass-green eyes shone as he gave Francisco an easy smile. "_Hola, papá_."

The effect on Francisco was astounding. Lovino didn't even know it was humanely possible for people to turn the precise shade of an eggplant. "Y-you!" he sputtered, looking very much as he would like to strangle the brunette on the spot. "What are you doing here, Antonio? He rose swiftly, his hands clenched into tight fists. Sensing trouble, Lovino flattened himself against the couch, wishing he could turn invisible. "You're supposed to be in Barcelona!"

The blonde man stepped forward, throwing his arm out in front of Antonio. "Easy, sir," he said gruffly. "We invited him to come here with us. We'd thought it'd be nice for him to see home." Francisco snorted, but backed down.

"What are you here for?" Francisco inquired curtly.

"Oh!" exclaimed Antonio as he noticed Lovino, cutting of the blonde male's response. "Who is this cutie?" He beamed brightly at the young child, who gave him a disbelieving look in response. The blonde groaned and rolled his eyes. Francisco gave his son a withering glare, all but throwing daggers at him.

"Someone you should let be," he growled. Though Lovino already disliked Francisco, he silently agreed with the man. After all, he rarely got along with the kids back at home, whom he was forced to play with, and tended to dislike men in general. The only male he bothered to put up with was Feliciano, who he would still be with if it weren't for that _culo_, Giovanni, and Francisco.

The brunette shook his head, his nostrils flaring as he let out a noisy sigh. "_Papá_, it's not like that… He's just a kid anyways." He placed a hand on his hip and pursed his mouth into a narrow line. "How old are you, anyways?" Lovino started, his eyes snapping wide open.

"Me?"

Antonio nodded, his lips quirking upwards.

"I'm ten," Lovino answered, narrowing his eyes. "How old are you? Four hundred?" Antonio chuckled, exchanging an amused look with the blonde woman.

"No, good guess though. I'm fifteen."

Lovino's eyes widened in surprise. The brunette with his tall height, lean frame, and angular face looked oddly mature; lacking the awkward gangliness most people at that age possesed. Seeing his shock, Antonio broke out into a broad grin. "Surprised, huh? Don't worry. You aren't the first to comment on how much I look like an old man."

"Can we get back on topic?" the blonde male snapped abruptly, flinging Antonio a chaffed glare. Antonio's expression was all wide-eyed innocence, provoking an eye-roll from the blonde. "Don't look at me like that. You know that you're changing the subject, so stop!"

"I am?" queried Antonio, tilting his head to the side. The blonde gave him an unimpressed look and crossed his arms.

"Oh stop, Tim!" The blonde woman rolled her eyes, tossing her head. Tim gave her a rueful smile, shaking his head. Francisco watched the three teenagers, a vein in his forehead pulsing dangerously.

"Laura…" Tim began, but was cut off as Laura held her hand out in front of her.

"Don't 'Laura' me, brother! Leave Antonio-"

"Well, he does seem to have gotten everyone quite off-topic, hasn't he?" Francisco growled in a low voice, shooting his son a dirty look. Antonio chortled softly and shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat on the sofa. Tim heaved a deep breath and sat down next to him. Laura, after a moment, followed, sitting on the other side of Antonio. Francisco pressed his lips together so tightly, they seemingly disappeared from his face, and sat down next to Lovino. The child hastily scooted away from him.

"So, why did you three come here?"

Tim cleared his throat loudly and began to speak.

"Recent tensions with Siberia and the Baltics have worsened, while our other allies in the Mediterranean are rethinking their current alliances and debating whether or not to throw their lot with them. To make matters worse, several prominent kingdoms in the Orient are also making alliances with Serbia. The Nobles and the Church are in an uproar, it's bedlam. So, we were instructed by the ruling family of the Netherlands- the Hoensbroecks- to tell you to head to Madrid, so the old families can reaffirm their loyalties during the conference, three weeks from now."

Lovino furrowed his brow, at a complete loss as to what he was talking about. Hoensbroecks… Orient… Old families… They all sounded familiar, but they didn't hold any meaning to the young child. He reached for his mug, the barbajada, now cold, and downed the rest of its contents. Francisco nodded, his expression, impassive.

"Will Britannia be participating, or have they betrayed the Empire as well?" he asked. Tim shrugged dismissively.

"_Ik denk van niet_," he answered, "Britannia is a madhouse as well. The Kirklands and the Tudors are going at each other's throats, and their doddering fool of a king, is powerless to stop them." Francisco let out a harsh bark of laughter and slapped his knees.

"Ah, the famous Tudor-Kirkland feud, violent enough to put the legendary Starks and Lannisters to shame. _Perros pendencieros_, the lot of them. It's a miracle they haven't torn their land apart, already." Francisco sneered and turned his attention to Lovino, who froze. "Rest assured, I'll be there, but first… I have to instruct my new servant." Lovino looked away to hide the unpleasantness twisting his face into an acerbic scowl.

Antonio gave his father a concerned look. "_Papá_," he began, "what are you planning? He's just a-"

"Silence, Antonio," stormed Francisco, his eyes flashing with a murderous lightning. "You are to hold your tongue around me. I'm your father, or have you forgotten that while in Barcelona? Perhaps I should see that you work in the fields."

Antonio snorted, unfazed by the caustic sardonicism in his father's voice. "Yes, and eat Coca leaves everyday to keep me going while starving to death. I'm sure the Holy Father would highly approve of that," he replied airily, as if commenting on the weather. Francisco smiled, a horrifying, almost demonic smile that invoked the worst of Lovino's nightmares. even Laura and Tim cringed at the sight of it.

"Truly, you are far more stupid than I gave you credit for," he snarled and stood up, drawing his hand back. Lovino's eyes widened. _Mio dio! Is that man going to- _

Francisco's hand was a blur of movement as he struck Antonio across the cheek. Tim gasped and Laura cried out, shooting up from her spot on the sofa. To the brunette's credit, he did not cry out. Instead, he sighed and calmly rubbed his throbbing red cheek, looking thoroughly bored.

"You're getting old, you slapped me harder when I was a baby." He rolled his eyes and leaned back, propping his legs on the coffee table. Francisco bared his teeth in a virulent scowl, his hands twitching.

"You," he snarled, "have until the end of today to pack up and leave the city. If you aren't gone by the time the sun sets, you will wish that you never set foot in here!" His voice was a thunderclap in the taut silence, exploding in their ears. Startled, Lovino dropped his mug, the ceramic shattering into a million fragments. Antonio sighed and brushed off his sleeves, raking his fingers through his wavy locks.

"Fine, but where is mom?" He stood up, stretching his arms. Francisco snorted and narrowed his eyes.

"She is with the others at the marketplace. Any more questions?" He added the last sentence as a challenge, as if daring his son to be flippant. Antonio flexed his shoulders and rubbed his cheek once more.

"No, you made it pretty clear I'm not welcome here," he replied evenly and left the room. The others watched him go, their faces aghast. Laura made a noise of protest, but was stopped from further action by her brother, who placed a hand on her shoulder and silently shook his head.

"Y-you!" she cried out, slapping Tim's hand. "How can you be so relaxed about the whole ordeal?" Lovino swallowed a lump in his throat, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. If his first three hours here was a good indicator of how his time serving the Carriedos was going to go… Well… Fuck. He thought the other families that had visited his _nonno's _mansion before were whacked, but clearly, this family took the cake and _limonata_.

"Can't believe my son… acting so crass in the presence of a new worker…" Francisco muttered under his breath in a furious stream. Lovino raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. _Really? _he thought, _I'm pretty sure you were the one who struck him_. Rarely, had he seen a parent strike their child. Especially, over a few petty, mildly impudent, words. If a man could treat his son like that, how would he treat his workers?

Fuck.

He rubbed his elbows, feeling the warmth seep out of the room. He felt as if the air was pressing in, becoming a lead weight that pressed against his chest, suffocating him. Francisco turned around to face him, terrifying with the darkness that was all-too-evident on his face. Lovino shrank back, afraid of the man's next action.

"Laura, Tim," he snipped brusquely. The blondes stiffened, their posture tense.

"_Ja_?" Tim answered, looking up with a blank expression. Laura bit her bottom lip, looking down at the folds in her skirt, appearing rather put out.

"I need you to leave so I can speak with this child here. You see, this is a delicate matter that I would prefer to not have bandied about, as such, I require privacy."

Laura's head shot up, she looked indignant. "We would never-" Tim clapped his hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of her angry words. He dipped his head down briefly.

"Of course," he said and stood up, grabbing his sister's arm and forcing her to stand. "Let's leave, Laura." He dragged a sputtering Laura out of the room, leaving Lovino alone with Francisco. For a split second, Lovino contemplated running away, to never come back; however, a second look at Francisco's face told him that'd be a foolish move.

With a noisy sigh, Francisco collapsed on the sofa across from Lovino, giving the child a rueful smile. Lovino was convinced he was faking his tiredness, but why? "You know…" trailed Francisco. Lovino narrowed his eyes, giving him a guarded look. Seeing it, Francisco chortled lowly.

"Suspicious, no?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Lovino shot back tartly before he could stop himself. His gut constricted, he doubled over as if he'd been punched, facepalming himself. Fortunately, Francisco just gave him one of his twisted smiles and began to tap his fingertips together.

"That's good, it will serve you well in the future."

Lovino cocked his left eyebrow, unable to keep the curiosity off his face.

"But, as I was saying," Francisco continued, "being the leader of a powerful and large family, such as my own, is a tiresome task." He heaved an exaggerated sigh, assuming a world-weary expression. "You have many enemies. People that you must make an example out of, and defend against." Lovino watched him with a growing apprehension. He did _not _like where this was heading. "You do know of poison, right?"

Lovino dug his nails into his thigh, wincing from the small shock of pain that jolted through him. "I do remember my _nonno _was poisoned, once, about two years ago. It was arsenic," he admitted. Francisco's mouth curled into a devious smile.

"So, you know what it was?" he asked, his face the perfect picture of condescending arrogance. Lovino's face was a blank mask as he replied:

"I overheard _nonno's _assistant discussing it with the Priest who came over to heal him." Lovino took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering. Though it was a bright, sunny day- not too hot, nor too cold- he couldn't shake off the numbing chill that had settled in.

Francisco nodded slowly, stroking his chin. "_Veo_," he mused. Lovino stiffened, still as a statue. "Romulus mentioned that you were good with plants," Francisco continued, "tell me about that." Lovino inhaled deeply, releasing his breath slowly.

"I just like to take care of them, is all. Though, I do know a few good herbal remedies, but such skill was never needed at home." He made a face. "Feliciano always took care of the crisis, whether it be a stubbed toe or a broken leg."

Francisco chuckled, highly amused. Lovino breathed sharply, biting the inside of his cheek, grimacing at the coppery taste of blood as his teeth sliced the muscle. "Now, can you tell me about Romulus's assistant?"

Lovino gaped incredulously at the man, completely lost. "Why?" he asked bluntly. Francisco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Did you ever consider that he was no mere assistant?"

Maybe it was the tone, as if he was speaking to a dimwitted child. Maybe it was just today's events pushing him to his limit, but Lovino's temper flared. He hissed, his knuckles turning bone-white as he clenched them tightly. He looked down, hiding his choleric scowl.

"What the hell are you getting at?"

Francisco snickered, his canines gleaming as he flashed Lovino a wicked grin. "Perhaps he was a Poisoner."

Lovino's jaw dropped, his anger evaporating completely. A Poisoner? He snorted, choking back a laugh. That had to be the _most ridicolo _notion ever. Poisoners were for fucked up families like the Carriedos. They worked in the shadows, brewing fearsome venoms to give enemies a horrid death and worked tirelessly to prevent a man such as Francisco, from being poisoned. Never mind that he probably deserved a good dose of belladonna. Besides, his _nonno _had the luxury of a town Priest, he would often make house calls to cure such maladies. There was no way in hell that Romulus's assistant was actually a Poisoner.

"Pfft…" He rolled his eyes, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. Francisco leaned forward, resting his chin on clasped hands.

"It isn't such a ridiculous concept, little one. Priests that actually value helping people and become Healers are pitifully few and far between. I'm sure the Priest back where you live is quite strained from work, and Romulus is a prominent-"

"How do you know so much about my _Nonno_?" Lovino demanded, his anger taking over once more. Francisco's eyes closed into little slits, his mouth twisting downwards in a subtle frown.

"Be careful, watch your tongue or your bravery will be the end of you," he hissed. Lovino blanched, his mouth becoming dry as cotton. "However, I will indulge you and tell you this much, child. Your parents and I knew each other, once. Though, we were hardly friends."

Lovino grimaced, shuddering at the thought of his _famiglia _knowing this man. It felt wrong that they should be associated with someone so cruel and callous. Though his memories of them were faint, he remembered them to be warm and loving. Never, would they of condoned Francisco's earlier actions of hitting his son.

"Still, back on topic…" He gave Lovino a piercing look, daring the child to interrupt him one more time. Lovino kept silent, swallowing the lump that had swelled up in his throat. "Romulus is a respected and wealthy man and as such, a target for many people who are resentful of his power. It would hardly be fair to the other residents of the city if the Priest was over, tending to him every time he ingested something deadly, would it?" His smile was cruel, his voice, cold and mocking.

A muscle in Lovino's jaw twitched, but he kept silent. Francisco laughed softly and leaned back, crossing his legs. "You're probably wondering as to what all of this has to do with you, though. Aren't you?"

Lovino nodded reluctantly, "_Sì_." He bit his bottom lip, studying the ceramic fragments scattered on the floor. Francisco looked down and saw the shattered mug. He sighed and waved his hand lazily.

"The servants will take care of that. You, little one, have far more pressing concerns."

Lovino's head shot up. He clenched his hands tightly in his lap, the fabric of his tunic crumpled in his grip. "Such as what?" he retorted. Francisco's reply was slow in coming. A tense silence filled the air between them. Then…

"I want you to become the Carriedo family Poisoner."

* * *

_Ok… since I'm a lazy-ass… I'm going to leave this chapter here. XD Next chapter will be for Feliciano, then we'll be jumping back to Lovino… then we'll get about one more chapters of each of the Vargas brothers before this arc ends. Then we'll be getting an 8 year time-skip… and then…_

_SHIT. HITS. THE. FAN._

_Seriously… I have about 4 arcs planned for this story… This arc… Which focuses on the changes the Vargas brothers are facing. Then the second arc, which focuses on the consequences of them being separated for so long (While introducing, or reintroducing, a horrible dick who you will want to see die VERY much) and the drama that ensues thanks to their new relationships. The third arc is sweet, almost slice-of-life and will be on the short side compared to arcs 2 and 4, and the fourth arc…_

_Oh… em… gee… the fourth arc, you guys will want to murder me for. It focuses on the Empire's relations with Britannia, and it's guaranteed to be the most gory and disturbing out of the arcs… Not to mention, most of the character deaths will occur in the fourth arc._

_In short… Here's how it's going to line up._

_1st Arc: Fairly short, not too much action, but establishes a general idea of character relationships. Interaction-heavy._

_2nd Arc: Has the most drama and political intrigue. It's going to be about the same length as the 4th arc._

_3rd Arc: Focuses on how much relationships have improved and features several side characters and their relationships._

_4th Arc: The fucking mind-screw arc… will mess you up… _

_Also, I had this brilliant idea to make this story semi-historical fantasy… So… The world map is somewhat similar, and you'll be seeing references to famous historical figures and incidents… not to mention poison techniques and stuff… Oh… and since this is Lovino's POV… Here's the random plant fact!_

_**Random Plant Factoid #1: **__The coca leaf is the unprocessed form of cocaine, and in this state, it is a mild, non-addictive stimulant which suppresses hunger and thirst. It does not produce a psychological dependence and is rich in essential minerals such as calcium. In the americas, the Spanish used the Coca leaves to keep their slaves working quickly all day with little food, water, and rest. Cool, huh? (The Coca leaf properties, not the horrific abuse of workers' rights) _

_Now… time for the appreciation time! I just want to thank all of you! I'm so fucking happy, I'm crying tears of joy… no lie… It's actually thanks to all your love that i updated so quickly. 6 favorites and 6 follows for one chapter? QwQ You guys are really the best… Time to reply to those that actually reviewed though! _

_Once again… Thank you all!_

_**Reviewer Replies**_

_Specialgirlz: Well… here's an update! Poor Lovino… Francisco is such a dick ;u; Will he survive his time here? Only time can tell O3O_

_Dogsrule: Well… wait no longer! :D Thanks so much! I hope this story only gets more awesome with time! _

_**Translation notes:**_

_Bastardo (Italian)- Bastard_

_Mucho mejor (Spanish)- Much better_

_Sì, signore (Italian)- Yes, sir_

_Hola, papá (Spanish)- Hi, dad_

_Ik denk van niet (Dutch)- I don't think so_

_Perros pendencieros (Spanish)- Quarrelsome dogs_

_Mio dio! (Italian)- My god!_

_Limonata (Italian)- Lemonade_

_Ja (It's Dutch as well as German)- Yes_

_Ridicolo (Italian)- Ridiculous_

_Famiglia (Italian)- Family_


	3. Arc I: Priest

_Blind Justice- The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince_

_Act I- Priest_

_**O-o-O-o-O**_

"_The water drops of time fall along the leaves and branches._

_The drops shiver and fall with an innocent prayer." _

_-Akiko Shikata, Ta Ga Tame no Sekai_

_**O-o-O-o-O**_

The sun slowly sank below the horizon, the sky becoming a tempera of citron hues. Despite the fast-coming sunset, Rome was alive and brimming with activity. Street vendors hawked their wares and ladies, dressed in luxurious gowns of samite and silk, conversed with each other at the cafés. Flowering blossoms and fragrant herbs grew in abundance at storefronts, masking the sweet rot of the marketplace

Smelling the spiced aroma of the plants, a fresh wave of homesickness washed over Feliciano. The little boy gripped the leather reins tightly, swaying back and forth as the white palfrey he rode ambled down the cobblestone path at a leisurely pace. He stole a glance to the side, seeing the heavily armed guard Giovanni insisted they traveled to Rome with, and looked away, struggling to ignore the pedestrians who gawked at the small group.

Feliciano wasn't shy. In fact, he loved socializing with other people and bringing a smile to their faces. But here, without his family, he felt naked and exposed. There was no warm _Nonno_ to comfort him if he erred and there wasn't Lovino to stand right by and defend him. Just a taciturn guard dressed in cold steel armor, and the aloof Monsignor. It was quite a shame he felt so uncomfortable here, else he would've loved Rome with its blushing marble architecture and gurgling fountains. He would've found the marketplace fascinating, despite the fetid odor of the fish and stranger items, and would have begged Romulus for some sweets. He would've chatted animatedly with the pretty waitress and gotten chewed out by Lovino, in turn.

However, he couldn't do any of that now. More than anything, he just wanted to arrive at the Priest's district where he would be trained and hide somewhere, never to be seen again. He wished Giovanni would hurry up and stop making him feel as if he were part of a freak show. He cleared his throat to speak but caught the guard's eye and fell silent, hanging his head.

The three continued to traverse the streets of Rome at a maddeningly languorous pace. Feliciano began to suspect that Giovanni was deliberately taking the scenic route, much to the younger child's dismay. He bit the inside of his cheek, struggling against the stinging tears that pricked the corners of his eyes. He was tired, mortified, and frightened. Why couldn't the Monsignor see that? The Priest back at home wouldn't be this cruel. So why would the Monsignor, a high-ranking official in the Church, subject him to this torture?

Feliciano looked down, studying the stitchery in the leather saddle, and began to mumble a prayer under his breath to pass the time.

_**-The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince-**_

After just short of what seemed like an eternity, the trio finally arrived at the Priest's district.

Feliciano's eyes widened at the stately patrician architecture of the palazzo, his fear and anxiety momentarily forgotten. The grandeur of the buildings with their gilded cupolas and the marble villas with their shady orchards seemed almost sinful. It made his _nonno's _estate was a mere peasant's plot of land in comparison. A sweet breeze tinged with jessamine wafted through the courtyard, tousling his hair playfully. With a curt nod, Giovanni motioned for the guard to help Feliciano dismount, and gracefully got off his own chestnut charger.

Feliciano's legs wobbled, unsteady on solid ground after eight hours of riding. His back felt even worse, sore all over. He wouldn't be surprised if he had bruises. He teetered forward, his arms flailing as he struggled to maintain balance. The guard caught him just as the small child was about to fall face-first on the ground.

"Careful, child," intoned Giovanni, looking over his shoulder with a small smirk on his face. Feliciano sighed and bowed his head, muttering his apologies in an undertone. The Monsignor's lips quirked upwards and he shook his head, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing to be sorry for. I'm just warning you, because it would be a shame if something unfortunate happened."

"_Sì, Signor_," Feliciano replied, nodding his head. He folded his hands together, anxiously shifting his weight, waiting for the Monsignor to give further instructions. He hoped that it wouldn't be something along the lines of giving a speech. He doubted that he'd be able to speak. Already over the shock-and-awe of seeing such splendor in person, his nervousness was already returning, swelling into a lump in his throat. "Uhm.." he trailed quietly. Giovanni turned around, staring at Feliciano with a detached expression.

"_Sì?_" Giovanni replied. Feliciano pursed his lips into a worried line, hesitating. He looked down, examining the flawless stonework of the ground. "Child," Giovanni sighed, "if you have something to say, please say it." Feliciano drew a deep breath and slowly lifted his gaze up.

"What are we supposed to do now, ve?"

Giovanni gave him a rueful smile and liberally massaged his temples. Feliciano stared curiously at him, wondering why the Monsignor appeared so thoroughly exasperated. "I am waiting for Luca, who will come and relieve me, so I can return to the Vatican to report to the Cardinals," explained Giovanni. Feliciano nodded slowly, his eyes widening.

"Ooh."

"Giovanni! Monsignor!" A white-clad figure came dashing out into the courtyard, flapping his arms wildly. Feliciano gaped incredulously at the man as he stumbled to an abrupt stop, his umber locks messy, an angular curl sticking out to the side like a sore thumb. Giovanni groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"You…" he grumbled, looking up at the disheveled Priest with a black look. The Priest laughed airily, hastily flattening his hair and turned his attention to Feliciano, giving the child a warm smile.

"Are you Feliciano Vargas?" he asked and held his hand out. Tentatively, Feliciano held his hand out in reply. The Priest shook it eagerly and leaned forward so he could peck the child on the cheek. "It's nice to meet you, _mio cugino_!" Feliciano cocked an eyebrow, staring dubiously at the Priest.

"_Che cosa_?"

Abruptly, Giovanni cleared his throat, stepping between the two of them. "This man here is Luca Vargas, your mother's younger brother," he interjected, cutting off the Priest's answer. Luca's mouth snapped shut and he nodded, a sheepish grin on his face. Feliciano's mouth formed a perfect little "o" as he scrutinized the Priest with an amazed expression.

"How come _Nonno _hasn't mentioned you?" he asked. Giovanni hurled a stabbing look in Luca's direction, muttering a virulent stream of words under his breath. Luca chuckled, his golden-brown eyes sparkling.

"To be honest… Him and I don't share the best relationship. It's a long story which explains how I actually-"

Giovanni snorted and folded his arms. "Don't you have any shame? You're talking about it far too casually!" he snapped. Luca shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

"You should know I'm a stranger to shame," he replied offhandedly. The Monsignor's eyes flashed, his distaste almost palpable. Feliciano took a step forward, holding his hand up.

"Uh… what is the rea-"

"Nothing no child should ever know," Giovanni interrupted curtly. "Maybe when you're older. In the meantime-" he shot Luca a withering glare "-I trust I didn't make the worst mistake of my life."

Luca rolled his eyes, folding his arms. "Definitely not of your life," he grumbled, an acidic note edging its way into his voice. Giovanni bared his teeth in a fierce approximation of a mock-smile.

"We all sin, dear Luca. I just pray that you act responsibly when handling this child. 'Lest, I'll have to contact his eminency about the incident. I assure you, he will not be pleased," he sang sardonically. Luca waved his words away, appearing utterly annoyed.

"_Sì, sì_. Whatever you say, _Signor_. I'll be sure to behave." He looked back at Feliciano with a forced smile and performed a quick bow. "Are you excited to meet your Shield?" Feliciano stared blankly at him, bewildered at what was happening. It felt as if he were tripping after ingesting something nasty.

"What?"

Luca shot Giovanni an irritated look. The Monsignor responded with an equally choleric stare of his own. "I thought I'd give you a chance to prove yourself competent and explain it yourself." Luca snorted and threw his hands up into the air.

"Can you just go attend to your duties already, you ass?" he grumbled. Feliciano's expression morphed into one with equal parts disgust and shock. Why were these two Priests speaking to each other with such bitter words? They were all special. All God's children. They should know that better than anyone. So why…?

"Certainly," Giovanni replied in an overly-saccharine manner, flourishing it with a melodramatic bow. He turned to the guard, snapping his fingers. "Let's go," he barked and mounted his charger. The guard nodded and grabbed the white palfrey's reins, walking over to Luca.

"Here," he stated gruffly and held the reins out towards Luca. The Priest's upper lip curled back. He placed a hand on his hip, shaking his head with a disbelieving expression.

"Do I look like a stable boy to you?"

Despite himself, Feliciano couldn't help the small smile that creeped onto his face. He certainly acted like a member of _Famiglia Vargas_. He struggled to wipe the grin away. _Luca is a Priest, _he reminded himself, _He should be accepting and friendly. Not behaving like mio fratello_… A needle of pain stabbed him in the heart. He flinched.

"_Per favore_," Giovanni enquired with a simpering smile and a mocking tenor. "After all, you are a Priest, no? Dedicated to serving others and doing good in-"

"_Oh, zitto! Prendo il cavallo stupido!_" Luca groused, snatching the reins away from the stoney-faced guard. The guard nodded wordlessly and trotted over to Giovanni, mounting his own destrier before riding away with the Monsignor. Luca watched them go with a petulant expression.

"Good riddance," he huffed. "That man always rubs on me the wrong way." Feliciano pursed his lips into a thin line and looked at the palfrey, meeting the horse's gentle, coal black, eyes.

"Why can't you get along with him, ve? After all, we're all God's children," he enquired, his eyes wide and guileless. Luca heaved a deep breath and gave the palfrey a disparaging look, shaking his head.

"_Vero_, but siblings don't always get along. Sometimes it's easier to gain God's forgiveness than it is to betray yourself and smile at someone who is Lucifer incarnate." Feliciano looked horrified, he clapped a hand over his mouth. Seeing it, Luca flexed his shoulder lackadaisically, unfazed by the child's reaction.

"I know that's a pretty harsh comparison, but trust me. Stay away from that man as much as possible. He is far more than he appears," warned the Priest. Feliciano ignored him, eager to change the topic.

"So, what is a Shield exactly? I'd think it's something warriors carry into battle to defend themselves, but you put it differently…" Luca frowned at the abrupt change in topic, but decided it was probably for the best that they didn't discuss it much further. Hopefully, the child wouldn't need to worry about the Monsignor. No sense frightening his young _cugino_.

"That sort of the general idea," the Priest responded. "A Shield is someone who protects a person of importance." Feliciano's lips turned downwards in a confused frown.

"I thought that was a guard," he retorted. Luca's mouth turned upwards, widening into a broad grin.

"Normally, that is. But a Shield is your life-long partner, unless you wish otherwise. They stay by your side at all times, with a sword in hand to defend you if the occasion should ever arise."

The child nodded slowly, taking it all in. "Why do I need a Shield?" he questioned. He was just a young boy. He had no ambitions nor did he want to engage in controversy. Up until today, his lifelong dream was to live with his family and help Lovino, who would ideally take over the estate for Romulus when he died. They'd both get married and have kids and everything would be sedate and fulfilling. Even now, he still wanted a peaceful life. Serve the Lord and do good in the world. Why would he need a Shield if all he wanted was to live quietly and help people?

Luca paused, looking pensive. "I really don't know, but I've heard the whispers of the other Priests. There are big things in store for you. I'm willing to bet that you'll someday be someone important, destined to change the world." Feliciano blanched, turning white as a sheet.

"_Per favore_, no. I don't want to be a revolutionary or a saint, ve. My biggest dream would be to live a fulfilling and peaceful life," he protested, taking a step backwards. Luca chortled humorlessly, shaking his head.

"Ya' know, kid… I wanted to get married and run an inn with my smoking hot wife, but look at me now." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It's strange how God works. He rarely gives you what you ask for." He looked at Feliciano, amused at the child's befuddled expression. "But who knows? Perhaps you will get your simple and calm life of doing good. In the meantime, we can't take any chances with your life." Feliciano nodded, folding his hands together.

"I understand, _Signor_," he said respectfully. Luca chortled and raked a hand through his hair.

"Just call Luca, Feli. Really, please skip the formalities. We are family after all, right?" Feliciano startled, but quickly recovered, bobbing his head up and down with a sunny smile on his face.

"Ok!"

Luca's face lit up, radiant with joy. "Great!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "Would you mind accompanying me while I hand this damned horse over to the stablemaster, so you can meet your shield?" Feliciano raised his eyebrows, placing his hands on his hips. Luca's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"I don't think the horse appreciated that," Feliciano retorted wryly. Luca tilted his head to the side, glancing at the horse, who nodded, tossing its platinum mane.

"That was uncanny," Luca said after an awkward moment of silence. It had to be a coincidence, but still… Too weird. Feliciano laughed, a clear pealing sound that made the birds resting in the boughs of the laurel and olive trees trill in response.

"But yes, I will gladly accompany you." He bowed and skipped over to the horse, patting the palfrey on the head. "It'd be interesting to see where the horses are kept anyways."

Luca crinkled his nose. "You shouldn't be too eager, the place smells of shit." Feliciano chuckled, shaking his head.

"The horses have to go somewhere, right?" Feliciano looked up at Luca, a devilish light sparkling in his wide eyes. "Whenever I had to use the chamber pot, it smelled really badly, no matter where I went."

Luca raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle insinuation in Feliciano's words. Maybe it was unintentional, maybe not. Perhaps, this child was a bit more clever than he first thought.

_**-The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince-**_

Sighing, Ludwig paced back and forth restlessly, standing vigilant guard in front of the door. Running his fingers through his golden-blonde hair, he scanned the corridor with his sharp cerulean eyes. Where were they? He'd be a great deal more relaxed if they would just arrive already. What if something had happened to them? That'd be a great way to lose his rank, low as it was. Fail your task before it had even started. He'd be the laughingstock of the army for years to come. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, slumping against the wall, the roughness of the lime-washed surface reassuring to him.

"_Danke_, Gilbert…" he grumbled under his breath. Never before in his life had his emotions came in such a mixed bag. He should be happy that he was assigned the important task of being someone's Shield, as it was a rare honor. Not frustrated and wishing that his older brother didn't volunteer him for the position. He had to be the youngest person in the Empire's entire history to be a Shield. In heaven's name, what was Gilbert thinking? He was only nine! Not even old enough to be on the field of combat!

"Hey… What are you doing?"

Ludwig froze, not daring to look up. No way… No way did he allow someone to sneak up on him and catch him unawares. What would his father say?

"Is something the matter?" a different voice, this one belonging to a young boy around his age, enquired. Slowly, he looked up at the two people standing in front of him: a bright-eyed Priest looking to be in his late-teens and a young brown-haired boy with a borderline-androgynous face, appearing even younger than Ludwig himself. He pushed himself to his feet and dusted his legs off.

"Ah, I am Ludwig Beilschmidt. I'm just waiting for the arrival of my charge, Feliciano Vargas," he replied formally, holding his hand out. Looking stunned, Feliciano weakly shook Ludwig's hand, hardly believing the blonde's words. Apparently, Luca shared his surprise. The Priest made a noise of disbelief and whipped his head back and forth. Ludwig inhaled sharply and released Feliciano's hand, taking a step back.

"It's true," he retorted indignantly. "If you have any doubts, you can see if this seal is official." He withdrew an envelope, emblazoned with a maroon seal, and handed it to Luca. The Priest stared at the envelope for the longest time before taking it and ripping it open. He scanned the letter it contained, his face becoming more comically dumbfounded with each passing second.

"You weren't supposed to open it!" Ludwig cried out angrily. "That was for Feliciano and the-"

"Uh…" the child trailed, looking uncomfortable. Fuming, Ludwig's glare shot in his direction.

"What?" he snapped tartly. Feliciano cringed and took a step backwards, clenching a fistful of his tunic in each hand. Luca snorted and threw the letter on the floor, throwing his arms up in the air.

"That is Feliciano,_ idiota_!" he shot back. "What are those people thinking? Have they finally taken leave of their senses?" The Priest seethed, his cheeks flushing a blotchy puce color. Ludwig's eyes widened as everything hit him at once with the force of a training sword to the head. He wasn't a Shield after all. Just a glorified playmate for this child. He sighed, face-palming himself.

Feliciano began to chew on his fingernails, looking anxious. "Ah…" he muttered something under his breath. Ludwig stared, alternating his gaze between Luca and Feliciano, feeling highly resentful. He had lost his place amongst the footsoldiers for… _this_?

_Bruder, warum_? he thought acerbically to himself. Did Gilbert not think him capable of fighting alongside the soldiers on the battlefield? Was this a joke that he thought would be amusing to play on his little brother? If so, it wasn't funny in the slightest. He'd rather be back training with the other pages in the art of strategy and swordsmanship.

"Well," Feliciano broke the taut silence. He smiled at Ludwig, tilting his head to the side. "We're going to be friends, ve!" He grabbed Ludwig's hand, looking at his Shield with those doe eyes of his. Ludwig stared at him in disbelief. Friends? As if… He was a Soldier, not a nanny. Nevermind the fact he was nine. He wanted to protest, strike down the child's statement. He wanted to assert himself. State that this was completely wrong. But, such actions would be against his training. Instead, he forced a painful smile on his face and he jerked his hand free.

"Sure…" he managed in between clenched teeth. Feliciano's smile brightened, if that was even possible. He clapped his hands together, bouncing in place. Ludwig forced the smile to stay on his face, even though his jaw was screaming at him. If he dropped it, he feared that he'd scream.

* * *

_And here is the third chapter to Blind Justice! Next should be Dawn… but really guys… I'm freaking out right now… All your support for this story is making me cry tears of joy. You people are all awesome… no lie. I do apologize if Feli, Lud, and Luca (Seborga) were a bit OOC, I just wanted to cast them in a different light. Ludwig is someone who is a bit unsure and always worried about making a fool of himself, but manages to keep calm and be dutiful. Luca is a bit airy, yet passionate, and quick to defend his family. And Feliciano… I managed to remember the "ve" this chapter XD But I just want to portray him as someone else besides an airheaded coward. Yeah, he can get thrown off easily and can be anxious and unsure, but he's also plucky, quick to recover, cheerful, and optimistic. Not to mention a bit more sharp than what others give him credit for. _

_Ah… but enough of me rambling… I just hope this chapter was good, and here is all the lovely stuff such as reviewer replies and translation notes. We'll be seeing Lovino again next chapter, which is good for me… He's easier for me to write (not to mention, my favorite X3)_

_**Reviewer Replies:**_

_SecretPrussianCitizen- It looks cool? Well that's good :D To be honest… I'm surprised I haven't seen the Poisoner thing… There was an elite guild of poisoners in Italy during the middle ages, and Lovino is oft portrayed as an assassin… Just not as a poison-using assassin XD_

_Dogsrule- The summary does give it away, no? XD But yeah… Francisco is a dickface… However, I assure you he's going to be the least of the Vargas brothers' problems… I don't intend to let him off easy, though. _

_SpecialGirlz- Yes for all those yeses! :D As for the arcs… Time will tell, but I hope they're all worth it :D Though I do admit while arc 2 is exciting, arc 4 is where everything is revealed and the true plot is revealed… and man… I'm just going to say… there'll be a lot of rage… A LOT of rage. XD As for my updates… It's whenever I want, though this story is tops for me because 1) It was technically my first story before I rewrote it and 2) This story is fun for me to write and even with the four arcs, one of my shortest stories, at least with the general outline. _

_The Empress of Moroons- Thank you for reviewing! *Hugs back* I'm just going to warn you that you wouldn't want to reference this for a test XD It's more like casual replay of certain events and usage of Historical figures… You'll learn more about poisoning and plants in this story than you will history XD But there is still a nugget or two there. As for the GoT reference… I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO NOTICE THAT! XDD You have a good day too! _

**_Translation Notes (Nearly forgot... derp..)_**

___Oh, zitto! Prendo il cavallo stupido!_ (Italian)- Oh, shut up! I'll take the stupid horse!

_Bruder (German)- Brother_

_Bruder, warum? (German)- Brother, why?_


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